


On the other side of the mirror

by Calliopeia



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angels, Daminette, F/M, Ladybug - Freeform, MariBat, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Miraculous Ladybug PV, Soulmates, alternative reality, mari - Freeform, maribat au, mirror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21787630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliopeia/pseuds/Calliopeia
Summary: There's a reality that mirrors ours. It is very similar to ours, and everything looks and acts quite the same. Whenever someone dies in this world, someone else dies in the other. Everything is reflected. It may seem far away, but whenever you go to sleep, you go to that world. And while you are there, you make company to your soulmate. By the time you wake up, you'll have forgotten everything until the next dream.What happens when you sleep for far too long?A daminette fanfic.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 36
Kudos: 287
Collections: Miraculous bests





	1. One

Everybody has an angel on their side.

They whisper rhymes into your ear, snickering whenever you make a mistake. Their names and titles do not exclude them from evil. If anything, they are as dangerous as the devils that your mother tells you to stay away from. Angels aren’t there for you to be a good person, they are there for you to live your life to the fullest, may it be a short or long life.

Most people will never be able to communicate with their angel in any way, much less actually see them. It is said that when you see an angel, you go blind from the light in their smiles. They are believed to be beautiful, the representation of everything good and bad in this mortal world. No one knows where they come from, or why they are here, but some have a few theories.

Some say they were punished by God because of their games and plays.

Others say they are evil spirits from other realms, they say angels feed off your soul.

Others say they are a gift, and that they will never be wrong.

The older people know that it is neither of those things. They know that the world is divided into two by who knows what magic. Maybe the gods became angry and broke the world, maybe one-star went right through the middle of the Earth and separated it from eternity. The reason doesn’t matter, what matters is that there are two realms.

Whenever one realm is asleep, the other is awake. Whenever someone dies in one realm, another dies on the other side. It is a mirror if you will. An unbreakable mirror, which becomes weaker when you sleep.

Truth is, the angel on your shoulder is nothing more but a person from the other realm. Not just any person, but your soulmate. Meant to be together, instead of divided by eternity. It is a sad story, to be destined to be apart from your lover without ever even meeting them, but that’s how life is.

When you are asleep, you dream of the other realm. Your soul aches for that complement it needs so hard that it transports itself to its side every night. You may not remember it, but last night as you slept, you were accompanying your soulmate through their day. You laughed with them as they scrolled through old vines, you cried with them when they received those bad news. You whispered into their ears that the girl that always sits in the back of the class looked a bit sadder than the other days. You screamed at them when you saw them kiss another one, someone that isn’t _you._

You screamed and screamed, but no one listened.

And before they went to sleep, you pleaded for them not to go. You made them stay awake extra hours because you didn’t want to leave them. You made them cry, trying to make them notice you. But like every other night, you failed. By the time you woke up, you had already forgotten everything.

Even right now, your angel is reading this story with you. They are smiling and beaming, praying for you to believe my words. Begging for you to realize they are right there, by your side. They always have been there.

But this isn’t the story of always. This isn’t the story of soulmates losing their memories each time they wake up, or the story of you finally seeing your angel.

This is the story of what happens when you try to stop a monster from destroying the city you love. This is the story of what happens when you hit your head into a brick world, hard enough that you can’t wake up. It is what happens when one soulmate goes into sleep for far too long.

It is the story of Marinette Dupain-Cheng falling into a coma.

Her realm mourned her, even if she wasn’t dead. But, at least for this time, her realm isn’t the important one. It is the one that mirrors her world the one that matters.

Damian Wayne woke up one morning with a horrible headache. As if he had gone face-first into a brick wall, which, considering his life, he probably did.

He went downstairs for the breakfast Alfred had prepared and ate alone as he went through the newspaper. Once he finished, he went back to his room and into the bathroom. He took a long, hot shower and washed his teeth. To finish off, he put on his normal clothing in front of his full-size mirror.

But instead of seeing his reflection as he normally would, he saw a girl standing right by his side. A blue-haired girl, with bluebell eyes and the most adorable freckles all over her face and arms. The girl was as red as a ladybug, and she was covering her mouth with her hands.

Damian, being the rational and intelligent son of Bruce Wayne that he was, screeched as high and sharp as he could.

“Stop!”, she shouted right back as she covered her ears. “Damian, please stop!”

Damian Wayne did not obey ghosts, so he didn’t stop.

Alfred opened the door with the calmest look ever and stared at the young master Wayne, causing him to finally shut up.

“Is everything alright? Does your suit have a stain?”, the old man asked raising his eyebrow.

Horrified, Damian pointed to his mirror.

“Does the mirror have a stain?”, Alfred asked as he studied the mirror, which looked to be in perfect condition.

“Can’t you see _it_?”, Damian hissed.

“He can’t see me Damian”, the girl behind him said.

“Did you hear that?”, Damian asked once again, trying to ignore the girl as well as he could.

“Your screams? I am sure that even Master Tim heard them back in the Wayne Tower”, the butler snickered as he studied the room. Maybe, he thought, the young master had hurt himself badly last night. Maybe he had a concussion and was now having hallucinations. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“Oh, stop with the roasting Alfred. I _know_ you can see her”

“So I am not _it_ anymore?”, the girl scoffed.

“I am not talking to you, so please shut up”

“Go ahead, make me”

“Are you always this insufferable?”

“I try my best”

By that time, Alfred had already left the room deciding that yes, his young master had gone completely crazy. Maybe a hot cup of tea would help.

“I told you he couldn’t see me. Or hear me. No one can”, the girl said as she scanned his room. She went ahead and sat on top of his bed, crossing her arms.

“Well, I can. Didn’t your parents ever teach you to not sit in a stranger’s bed?”, as he said so, he turned around to get her off the bed. But once his eyes left the mirror, he couldn’t see her anymore. Just like that, the girl was gone.

“What the fuck”, he whispered as he went towards his bed. He moved his hands and threw pillows to where the girl had sat, but nothing reacted. It was just him and thin air in his room.

Damian turned back towards the mirror and sure enough, the girl was there, staring right back at him.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to swear?”

“No, and even if they did, I am a 16-year-old boy with a ghost in his room. I think I have every right to swear as much as I wish to”

The girl scrunched up her nose.

“I am not a ghost”

“Whatever. I am already late for school, and I need to leave whatever you are behind”

“Don’t you want to know who I am?”

“No, thank you very much”

He turned around to search for his backpack. Once he picked it up from the floor as well as his blazer and cellphone (poor victims of the “attack strange girl ghost” mission), he was ready to go. He gave one last peak to the mirror.

“Who are you?”, he whispered, not really expecting an answer.

“I knew you were curious. I’m Marinette. Before you go, I suggest that the next time you see me, you don’t start screaming”

_Next time?_ he wondered to himself. How many times would he see the ghost, sorry, Marinette?

Turns out, it would be a lot of times.

“Alright”, he said as he left the room.

On the way to school, neither he or Alfred said a word. Thankfully, he didn’t see Marinette again all through the ride, except when he arrived at the school. When he got out of the car, he could see in the reflection of the car’s mirror the image of the bluenette following him. As much as he wanted to say something, he took her advice and ignored her completely.

Inside Gotham Academy, there was chaos. The students were running ¿g from one side to the other, and everyone seemed to be gossiping about _something._ That wasn’t normal.

With a skeptical look, Damian walked towards his locker to put his things inside. When he opened the little metal door, lo and behold, there was Marinette staring back at him. He was starting to regret not cleaning the locker years ago when it was first handed to him. The last girl had left a little mirror hung on it, and right now that mirror was the source of his anger.

“Are you really going to follow me everywhere?”, he whispered, making sure no one heard him.

“I don’t really have a choice. Wherever you go, I follow. That’s the rule”

“What rule?”

“Forget it”

Behind him, a group of fourteen years old swooned.

“Why is the world acting so strange right now?”

“You tell me”, Mari answered with an awkward smile. She looked cute when she smiled.

Before he could continue the conversation, the headmistress started speaking through the school’s speakers.

“Damian Wayne, please come to my office _now_ ”

The boy in question resisted the urge to hit his head against the locker.

“Of course it had to be me”

“Good luck?”, Marinette said.

“Thanks”

Damian closed the locker and walked towards the office. On his way, he continued seeing the drama between his classmates unfold, but whatever they were seeing, he surely could not. When he arrived at the office, he could see Marinette in the reflection of the doorknob. She smiled and crossed her fingers. He knocked twice before entering, a very visible scowl on his face.

“Let’s make it fast. Why am I here?”, he said as he closed the door.

“And here I was thinking you liked me, Mr. Wayne”, answered the headmistress from behind her laptop.

“Oh, I do. In fact, I like you so much that I would rather not steal your time”

“Great. So, the reason I called you is that I will need your assistance”

Truth be told, the headmistress continued talking and she took her time. Damian wasn’t even paying attention to her, he was way more interested in the glass table, the windows, the laptop, and the decorative mirror standing right behind the headmistress. In all of them, he could see Marinette walking around the office.

When she noticed him staring, she smiled back.

“Compared to the last time I went to my headmaster’s office, this is pretty calm”

Damian smiled back at her, not being able to answer her verbally. He was starting to notice, now that he wasn’t as startled about the situation, that Marinette had an accent. A very notable French accent. It made her sound adorable whenever she pronounced a word with many _r’s_ or many _e_ ’s.

Marinette stared at a picture of the headmistress’s pet. It was a black cat with green eyes, staring straight into the camera. Her smile faltered as she observed it, her mind long gone. She looked at Damian once again.

“I think she’s done”

“Mr. Wayne!”

Damian tried to ignore Mari and instead focused on the headmistress.

“Yes?”

“I’ll take your silence as your willingness to perform the task I told you about”

“Task?”

The older woman sighed.

“There is a French school that is going to be attending our classes for the next two weeks. Seeing that you are the one with the best grades, I thought you would be perfect for being their guide. But if you are too busy with whatever is on your mind, I can ask anyone else”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Marinette basically jumping around the office.

“Which school? Damian, ask her which school”

“Ma’am, may I ask the name of the school?”

“Of course. It is the College Francoise Dupont”

For him, that name meant nothing. But he could see that behind him, Marinette was starting to tear up. Her hands seemed to be shaking and Damian wondered if she was going to fall down. From the mirror, she begged with her eyes.

“Please, Damian. You have to do it. I beg you”, she whispered.

“So, will you help me, Mr. Wayne?”

He didn’t doubt for even a second when he said yes.


	2. 2

When I was a kid, I often had nightmares.

Every night, without a fail, something would appear in my dreams. Sometimes it was sickness, sometimes it was falling. Sometimes it was the loss of my loved ones, sometimes the loss of my soulmate. Every night, I would wake up screaming for my mom, for a hand full of warmth and love.

And every night, without a fail, she would come running to me. She would sing me to sleep, tell me how everything would be alright. And as long as she was there, I would feel ok. But she couldn’t be there forever.

So, I learned how to sing myself to sleep. I learned that if I threw a bunch of extra blankets over me, I could replicate the warmth I felt from her. I still wake up from nightmares, but now I don’t cry for her. I just pick my pieces back up and find a way to make it work. To make _me_ work.

I know I am not the only one who does that. Some don’t sing or pick extra blankets. Some can’t go back to sleep until they have stood up and walked some laps around their bed. Some need to go and put on a certain piece of clothing that brings them back to their safe place.

Some just lay there and breathe, hoping that when they open their eyes everything will be better. Maybe, when they open their eyes, the nightmare will be gone.

She opened her eyes, and the nightmare was still there.

They were different. Changed.

As if someone had taken all of the characteristics that made them _them_ and mixed them all up, putting it back together as if it was a puzzle. But the puzzle pieces were wrong and everything was wrong, and what resulted was an image that talked like them, dressed like them, ate like them, but just wasn’t _them._

She missed _them._

She wished this was all just a nightmare but after the first hours she knew it was the sweet, sad reality.

When Damian had accepted to be the tour guide for the Francoise Dupont College, Mari had expected to see her friends. She had thought that they would be sad, that they would miss her. She wished for them to go on with their lives, but in the back of her heart, she just wanted to see that her lack of presence did make a change in their lives. Instead, all she got was clones that were made too perfect to be them.

Adrien Agreste was laughing, joking about something that had happened in the dinner before he left for Gotham. His father, Gabriel, and his mother, Nathalie, had been discussing the right consistency for mashed potatoes. They didn’t reach an agreement until Natalie’s secretary, Emilie managed to calm both of them down. It might have been funny if Mari had focused more on the story instead of focusing on the clothes that the boy was wearing. Instead of the usual Agreste clothes, it was a very pricey looking shirt and pants from some other brand she didn’t recognize.

Hanging from his arm was Nino Lahiffe, who seemed to enjoy his boyfriend’s story as he played with his hands. He was as dressed up as Mari had ever seen him.

Behind them, Lila and Max debated about wether Andrew Loyd Webber was the best President the United States ever had. By their sides, Alya and Chloe muttered something into each others’ ears, discreetly pointing at Kim, who was quiet as a mouse.

The rest of the class was like them. They looked and spoke just like her friends, but their attitudes, their personalities, their conversations just weren’t right.

And the cherry on top was still missing.

“Oh, you are the guy that is going to show us around?”

Marinette felt her eyes go wide.

“Yes”

“Well, chop-chop, we haven’t got all day”

She was going to puke. Could she puke? Didn’t matter, she was going to do it.

In front of her, standing in high heels and a little black dress was Marinette’s replica. She wore her hair down, and maybe it was the makeup or just the gigantic m¿amount of confidence radiating from her, but she looked like the most beautiful girl in the room.

Marinette walked towards herself. Looking straight at her, she noticed the same things that she saw on herself. Her freckles, the way her blue eyes reflected the light. It was the same girl, but something changed. Just like with the rest of the class.

She wondered if Damian could see her at the moment. Was he as surprised as her? She gave him a little glance, but his expression said nothing.

The girls and boys behind him, on the other hand, were screaming.

“Nettie!”

“Nettie, I love you!”

“Will you sign my shirt?”

Everyone in Gotham’s school was screaming words of love and praise. And they were screaming them at _her_. The her that was not herself.

All throughout the tour, Marinette was constantly reminded of how these people were not her friends. Of how they were not part of her world. Which meant that she had no idea how to get back to her home.

////////////////

“What the fuck?”

“I agree”

They were back in the Wayne mansion. After the tour, Damian had told the headmistress that he wasn’t feeling quite well, and to avoid getting sick the other students, he decided to make the great sacrifice of going back home to rest. He didn’t give her a chance to chat before leaving.

Now, in his room, Damian had somehow gotten the shiniest objects in the mansion inside his room, so that wherever he looked Mari would be staring right back at him. She had to admit, the boy was quite smart.

But still not smart enough to figure out what was going on.

“I just saw you back there. But you are still trapped in the mirrors”, he pulled at his head as he walked in circles. He really was going to become bald soon if he continued with that nasty habit of his.

“Not me, and I am not trapped”

“What, now you’ve got a twin? Let me guess, she is you but you are from the past. Maybe you took a time machine and traveled to the future to find something, a clue for a problem of your life but then got trapped and can’t go back… Oh, Bruce is going to love this”

“As I said, I am not trapped. Neither am I from the past or the future for that matter”

“But it is what makes complete sense. Either that or you are an evil spirit. Maybe a clone gone wrong, a ghost, something. It is the only thing that makes sense”

“It isn’t. If you heard me instead of continuing spilling nonsense, you would know the truth”

“The truth? Oh, your truth? How can I trust you when I don’t even know you?”

“But you _do,_ Damian, that’s the thing. You do know me. But you are awake so your memory is erased. Now, sit down and let me talk for once”

“I already let you talk and I am not liking what I am hearing”

“Oh, for Kwami’s sake…”

“Shut up!”

“No, you shut up!”

They had been screaming way too loudly for some time. Damian’s butler, Alfred if she remembered correctly, interrupted their conversation as he went into the room. Mari was sure that seeing Damian in the middle of a room full of reflective surfaces and talking to himself wasn’t the usual routine for the poor old man. Instead of asking anything, he just left the room once again, muttering something under his breathe about how Master Bruce was really fucking those kids over.

The door closed and neither of them spoke for a moment. Marinette just breathed heavily, as she tried to think her words. She had known from the moment she woke up in that state that Damian was a piece of work, but she hadn’t remembered him to be that stubborn.

She sat down on the floor, tired.

Damian sat down in front of one of the mirrors to see her face to face. He seemed to want to say something, but he would close his mouth over and over again.

“It’s cute”, she said without thinking.

“What?”

“That thing you do when you open and close your mouth. Ever since you were little, you were so afraid of saying the wrong thing in front of your grandfather. Now you are still so afraid that sometimes you don’t speak at all. Your brothers blame it on the trauma”

He was stunned and quiet, and for once he looked willing to listen to her.

“How… how do you know that?”

“Because I know you, Damian Wayne or Robin or whatever you want to be called. And I am sure you know me as well. But right now, you can’t remember, so if you could please allow me to explain everything, it would be easier. For the both of us”

Damian gulped. His hands were trembling. He had never been good at handling stuff he didn’t understand.

“Ok”

“Ok”

The teens stared at each other and for the first time Mari felt their heads and hearts sync up. She wondered if that was how they were supposed to always be.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I am your soulmate. Yes, it is confusing and makes no sense, but it is real. You see, there are two realities… or maybe more, but this is all I am supposed to know. These two realities for some reason are a reflection of each other. Everything is exactly the same, but there are some things that make them very different from each other. I am from one of those realities, and the girl you met today that looked exactly like me is from the other. We are the same person, originally, but differences in our lives made us different people. Those differences are caused by the reflections of each reality.

“The realities are meant to… complement each other. Sort of like the yin and yang. And since it is about complementing, in each reality there is someone that complements someone from the other reality. They are soulmates. But because they are from different realities or worlds, they can’t communicate or know each other. And yet… for some strange reason, whenever one is asleep, the other is awake. The sleeping person gets transported to their soulmate’s side, their reality. But, it is supposed to be only a manifestation, a mental and sentimental representation of us. So, the sleeping person is like a spirit or a ghost following around their soulmate, who can’t notice them or communicate with them because they aren’t a physical manifestation.

“And once the person that is awake goes to sleep, they are now the spirit following around their soulmate. This goes on and on, through all of our lives. While we are asleep, we get to know our soulmate and their lives”

“But”; Damian interrupted, “why is it that I never did that? I don’t remember doing so”

“Exactly”, Mari smiled as he began to understand her, “You don’t remember, but you did it. It is a perfect system so that the moment we wake up, we forget everything about the realities and the soulmates. Sometimes we remember bits and pieces, but we remember them as dreams. Our mind changes the memories that stayed so that they don’t have any kind of order or don’t seem realistic That’s why they are so blurry and never make any sense. But, next time you go to sleep, you remember everything once again”

“Why would our minds do that? Erase our own memories?”

“I… don’t know. I think it’s to protect ourselves. When you follow around your soulmate and learn about them… you start caring. But because you aren’t physically there, you can’t do anything. Imagine if we lived with that burden, those memories all through our lives. We would go crazy trying to reach our soulmate, cross to the other reality. At least by restarting our memories every time we wake up, we don’t get obsessed with our soulmates all throughout the day”

“And if we seek out for the replicas? Since you are my perfect complement, then the Marinette I met in the school should be too, right?”

“Not really. As I said, originally when we were born, we were the same person. But because of the realities, our lives made us very different people. Maybe you would care for her, but she wouldn’t your soulmate”

“So, the other students from France…”

“In my reality, they are my friends. They are… different, very different. It is weird seeing them like that”

Marinette hugged herself. She was still frustrated by her own obliviousness. She knew they wouldn’t be her friends, but she had still insisted on seeing them, even when she knew it would hurt her. She had just hoped that it would all be the same.

Damian looked at her worryingly. Maybe he saw the sadness in her eyes, or the way she hung onto herself for dear life, but his eyebrows were furrowed. He only did that when he was worried.

He extended his hand and put it on top of the mirror, right where her shoulder was reflected. But, since she wasn’t really in the mirror but in front of him, his hand went right through her.

She giggled.

“You just went right through me”

“Oh, really? Sorry, it’s just that… the mirror”, he blushed.

Mari liked him when he was like that. Sheepish, embarrassed by something absurd. It showed how even after all the horrible stuff he went through; he was still as human as she was.

“Take your hand a little back… Now, more to the left. A little up, not too much”

He followed her directions until his hand was right on top of her shoulder. For a second there, she could feel the warmth of his hand on top of her. She could feel it.

“Right there”, she whispered as she stared at the hand.

None of them moved, afraid of ruining the moment.

But Mari was not done talking.

“I know that it is all confusing to you. But I promise that when you go to sleep it will all make more sense”

He jumped, startled by her voice after the quietness. His hand moved and just like that, the feeling of contact was gone. He hugged himself, mirroring her actions.

“Why can I see you? Or talk to you? Shouldn’t you be… not physical?”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking about. When I was awake, I ran into a building and hit my head really hard. I went into a coma right when you were asleep. We met each other. And… I think, no, we think that the coma changed something. Probably because I am asleep all the time, so all the time I am with you. You also said that our meeting would probably alter the realities since we weren’t meant to meet”

“I said that?”

“Yeah. Like I told you, you were asleep. When you woke up, you had forgotten everything. I didn’t think that you would be able to see me, but you did, so I panicked. I should have probably told you the truth from the start. I am sorry”

“No, don’t worry. Even if you had tried to tell me, I wouldn’t have listened. The only reason I listened right now is that I saw your self from my reality”

Damian stood up and he started looking for something. He opened a night table’s drawer and took out a little notebook and a pen. He started writing something.

“What are you writing?”

“What you just told me”

“But you’ll go to sleep and you’ll remember”

“Yes, but I’ll wake up and forget. I can’t make you suffer every day just because I can’t remember, so tomorrow when I wake up, I want you to order me to read my diary”

“Things have changed, maybe you won’t forget this time”

“I forgot about our meeting. Do you really want to risk me forgetting again?”

Mari was quiet.

“No”, she muttered.

“Then, this is the answer”

He finished writing and put the notebook and the pen back in their place. He sat back down in front of her and looked her right into her eyes.

“Where’s your hand?”

“What?”

“Your hand. I want to… grab it”

Mari extended her left hand towards him. She gave him directions until their hands locked. Once again, the feeling of warmth invaded her.

“Marinette, I promise you that I won’t forget. But to do that, I need you to promise me that you’ll make me read the diary”

Mari gulped.

“Please?”

“I promise”

“Thank you”

They left the room and went on with their day. Mari saw his brothers and saw him fight with them. Thankfully, there was no problem in Gotham, so he went to sleep quite early to meet with her properly.

As he prepared for bed, Mari made sure to stay away from mirrors. She didn’t want him to see her face, because she was certain that if he did, he would realize that she had lied.

For him, he had just met her that day.

But Mari had already had the same conversation last day, and he had made her promise him that she would tell him all in the morning if he forgot. She didn’t.

Mari hated breaking promises and lying. It made her feel sick to her stomach, she knew it wasn’t right. But still, she wasn’t the only one that had broken up a promise. He had promised her he wouldn’t forget her. He had said it last night.

And Mari’s nightmare came true when he didn’t recognize her that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song I was listening to while writing: Read My Mind, by The Killers


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those interested, I have a tumblr account! I am quite new to this site, so it is easier for me to see your comments and questions there. Hope you like the chapter!
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/calliopeia

There is this place. You may have seen it before, in your dreams. It is a part of the coastline, right where the land meets the sea. The water is always cold and yet, you always have the want to go to it. On the shore, there is a lighthouse, but since it is always summy, the lighthouse is never working.

It is the meeting point between realities, the water acting as the mirror. It is the place you go to wake up and go back home. Every time you wake up, you go there. The water calls you and as soon as the cold meets your head, you are awake.

The lighthouse and the beach are lonely places. They are meant to be stations, the last places from the other reality that you touch before going back. They are not meant for you to stay there for a long time.

Maybe that’s why for the first time in Damian’s memory, it was raining in that mysterious place.

He woke up in the middle of the beach. The sand felt muddy under his body, and tears kept falling down the sky. He sighed as he stood up and walked towards the lighthouse, just like he had done last time. When he went in, the smell of bacon went into his nose.

Mari was cooking breakfast. She was singing to herself, ignoring the sound of the door closing behind Damian. He sat down in the table, drinking from a glass of orange juice that Mari had set before he arrived.

“That wasn’t meant for you”, the girl mused as she served the eggs and bacon on two different plates.

“You lied”

Not even a flinch.

“I hope you like your eggs sunny side up”

Mari brought the plates to the table and sat down to eat.

“You lied”

“I am very hungry. Aren’t you? Well, of course not, you ate a few hours ago”

She was ignoring him completely. Not even looking at him to the eyes, she ate and drank as if she was meeting with an old friend. Their conversation was going nowhere, just like the outside rain.

Before Mari could take another bite from the food, Damian stood up and picked up the plates. He went ahead and threw them out the window, not even caring about the wasted food or the perfect plates.

He walked back towards Marinette and sat down, facing her directly.

“You made a promise, Marinette”

His soulmate finally raised her eyes to his. There was a sharp to her glare, something fierce behind her usually calm eyes. It was as if the storm from outside had come from her blue eyes.

“I did”

“You broke it”

“You did it too”

Blue eyes met green. It was weird seeing each other so angry. They were used to their deadly stares, but they were usually in the position of the observer, not the receiver. They frightened each other more than they dared to admit.

“It wasn’t my fault”

“A promise is a promise. If you knew you wouldn’t be able to fulfill it, you shouldn’t have made it in the first place”

Damian put his fingers in the bridge of his nose, thinking of what to say to make Marinette less angry. Gosh, he was becoming more like his father as each day passed, and that was something he wasn’t getting used to or looking forward to.

“It is something beyond my control, Mari”

“You shouldn’t have made it”

“It is not my fault that my brain erases my memories”

“You shouldn’t have made it”

“Oh, what, and we are ignoring the fact that you lied to me for a whole day?”

“You _shouldn’t_ have made it!”

Marinette slammed her hands against the table. She was no longer sitting down, and she seemed ready to leave the lighthouse. Sadly, that wasn’t her decision to make and she knew it.

Damian could feel her heart wrench and twist, aching in a pain he only now could understand. As drops of her tears fell down to the table, he finally understood why she was acting that way.

“It is horrible. I can’t go back… I can’t. And then I have to live all the time awake, always there, always watching. And to top it all off, the only one that is able to speak to me doesn’t even remember my name when he wakes up. I am not a nanny Damian, and I am going crazy in this state. All I want is to go home and go back to the way things used to be. I want to wake up and forget you, and then sleep and remember”

A knot formed in his throat. He didn’t consider how much pain she must be in. It wasn’t only about him not remembering her, it was also about her coma. He knew how much she loved her friends and family. Damian had seen her fall to pieces just to help the ones she loved. She would do anything for them. But now, she wasn’t even able to make a single thing for herself.

But still, a little selfish part inside of him wished she didn’t suffer that much. They were finally able to communicate with each other, shouldn’t she be happier? Damian had wished to meet her ever since he was a kid. But now that he did, the whole situation felt more like a nightmare than the sweet reunion he had hoped for.

“You want to forget me?”

She flinched at his tone. Damian put his hand on top of hers, just like he had seen her parents and Tikki do for so many years.

“I don’t”, she croaked. “I really don’t. But if that’s the price I have to pay to wake up in my own bed, then I will. I really loved meeting you, and I want us to keep in contact. But I don’t understand why any of us has to suffer to be able to chat”

Damian stood up and rounded the table. He pulled her towards him and gave her the hug they both seemed to desperately need.

“I’m so sorry. I want to help you get back home, I really do. But I can’t do that if you allow me to be an idiot who doesn’t remember his soulmate every day”

Marinette giggled as she put her forehead against his chest. It was the first time he realized how small she was compared to him. And to think that despite her height she had been able to perform so many amazing things as Ladybug and Marinette.

“You are an idiot always. You don’t need my help for that”

“Right, sorry. Then without your help, I’ll be even stupider”

Marinette took her head back to be able to look at him, a mocking grin on her face.

“You couldn’t!”, she gasped in fake horror.

“Oh, yes I could. Even right now I can feel ignorance creeping inside my bones”

“No! How can I cure you?”

“I am afraid it is impossible. Once the stupidness gets a hold of my body, I’ll be done for good”

“Well, that would be a shame”; she snorted.

Damian raised an eyebrow, a malicious idea forming inside his head. Marinette went pale, already imagining what sort of torture he would put her on.

“Mari”

“Yes?”

“I am afraid that the idiot in me has taken over. I lost control over my body”

“That’s a weak-ass excuse”

Damian smirked as he pulled her closer, looking as if he was going to give her a peck on the lips. But just before he did so, he started tickling all her body, making her squirm down as she giggled.

“No, stop! Da-Damian!”

“It’s not me, it’s the brainlessness that I have been transmitted!”

Marinette went down to the floor laughing, trying to make herself a little ball to protect her from Damian’s hands. Sadly, when she did so, he picked the ball up just like he had seen in a certain movie.

Marinette picked an eye through her hands to see what exactly he was doing.

“Are… are you holding me up like Simba from the Lion King?”

“I was thinking more about Hamlet, but whatever works for you”

“That didn’t happen in Hamlet”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night”

“You are lying”

“We’ll never know”

“Damian! Get me down!”

“Huh, I think it is Shakespeare’s spirit talking to me. Something about getting him down”

“Damian!”

He obeyed. But only because his arms were getting tired, though he would never admit that to Mari or any of the brat boys. He didn’t need to be mocked by his soulmate and the brats about how weak his arms were. So what if he couldn’t hold Marinette like Simba? He could hold a sword, and that had to be worth more.

Once down, Marinette flashed him a smile, making her cheeks go all squishy mode.

At that moment, he decided that he would start training more for upper arm strength. Not even the most beautiful of swords could be worth more than another one of those smiles, not even taking into account the cheeks.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of the Lion King!”

“Me neither, I have never seen it”

“But it’s a classic! I have seen it countless times, you probably watched it with me!”

“Don’t think so. Last time you watched it I was busy planning the arrangements for Miss Rossi”

Ah yes, Plan Sausage as he had called it. The plan involved making use of his various contacts amongst the celebrities and later making use of his various contacts amongst the most famous assassins. It was planned to be a “Purge” kind of situation, but there would be only one victim and at least 30 skilled people with knives.

Sadly, the event had to be forgotten after Damian realized that he would never be able to find Lila Rossi since she belonged to the other reality. And even if he did, there was no way he would be able to remember a plan he made during his stay in Marinette’s reality.

“… Arrangements?”

“You don’t want to know”

“I guessed so”

Both of them smiled. A smiled that said so many things but at the same time none.

Damian loved being with her. He had always been the quiet type, but was usually feeling uncomfortable when he was surrounded by other people and he didn’t say anything. But there, With Marinette in front of her, he could go a thousand years without saying a single word and he would still feel as happy as he did at the moment.

Not that he wanted to stay silent, he had waited so many years to be able to have a conversation with the girl of his dreams.

“Let’s watch it together”, he said without really thinking.

“What?”

“The movie about lions. Let’s watch it. We can use the cinema room in the mansion. I’ll set a mirror and we’ll watch it. Together”

“That would be quite nice”

“Yeah”

Marinette grabbed his hands and started playing with his fingers. She looked as cute as ever.

“Yeah”, she muttered, clearly distracted by his big hands.

“I promise I’ll pay attention this time”

Both of them chuckled.

In their silence, they noticed how the rain had disappeared somewhere along their conversation. The day seemed to be sunny, perfect for building sandcastles and playing on the beach. Maybe Marinette would agree to write things in the sand for him. Even better, they could make him a mermaid tail with the sand. It would be glorious, and he would look as majestic as he always did.

He was about to tell her his ideas when a cry caught his attention.

No, not a cry. A voice. Someone singing.

Damian let go of Marinette and went outside the lighthouse, back to the beach.

The voice sang again. No words, just a simple sound.

It came from the sea.

It called for _him._

He needed to follow it.

He started walking towards the sea as the voice called one more time.

“Damian”, Marinette grabbed his hand before he gave another step closer to the sea. “I promise I won’t lie this time. I’ll show you the journal as soon as you wake up. So, please, try not to forget me this time”

“I’ll try”

It sang again.

One second later, Damian was going into the water. Had it always been this cold? He could feel the fingers Marinette had grabbed starting to go numb. But still, the voice called again, forcing him to go deeper into the water.

Before his head went in, he gave a glance towards the beach. Marinette stood on the shore, hugging herself as she washed him leave.

He noticed she was wearing a white dress that floated with the wind. It suited her.

Damian went into the water, allowing the cold to get over his body.

He blinked, and he was back in his room, on top of his bed.

For some strange reason, his room was full of mirrors. Probably another of his brothers’ pranks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song I was listening to while writing: House of Glass, by Cage the Elephant


	4. Part 4

I still remember the first time I kept the dream in my mind after waking up. I suppose that as everyone else, I had been visiting my soulmate ever since I was born. But it’s a different thing to know it and something completely different to remember the dream, remember them. And that night, I woke up and remembered everything.   
Well, almost everything. 

The dream, or should I say the memory, was blurred. It was a collection of fragments of a bigger story in which somehow I was a participant, although I didn’t know why. I remember standing there, in the middle of a hotel, with someone else.   
I could tell you about how, in my memory, they were Brazilian and had a skin tone darker than mine. I could tell you that they had the most beautiful curls ever, which would drop all over their face when they went into the pool. Or maybe you would be more interested in knowing about how they were kind to everyone and always said “good morning” and “have a nice day” to everyone that crossed their path. They had a lot of friends. They always smiled, and that smile attracted everyone at the hotel. Was it a hotel? Maybe it wasn’t, maybe it was something my brain invented to fill in the blanks. 

Maybe it was all an invention from my brain.  
But it couldn’t be, because then I wouldn’t remember it after all these years. I think I was 12 back then when I saw them, and I’m now way older than that. A dream shouldn’t be remembered for five years and counting. So it couldn’t be a dream.   
As much as I try looking back, I can’t remember specific details. Not their age, not their face, not their voice, not their pronouns. I don’t know anything about them. But here’s what I do remember: 

Something happened at the hotel. Something important, something dangerous. And they were caught in the middle of it. They were an innocent bystander, but they took them just for having a set of eyes. They took them by the collar and threw them to the ground, and I screamed and pleaded but no one could hear me.   
I went closer to them, trying to embrace them, protect them. But my arms were made of thin air and there was nothing I could do. And as I watched them get hurt over and over again, I cried. I cried for them, thinking it was all over. Thinking that was it, I had lost my soulmate at 12 years of age.   
Suddenly, they turned their head to the side, towards me. And maybe it was invented by my brain, but I could swear I saw them smiling, their eyes focused directly on mine.   
I woke up with the words of a voice I can’t remember.   
"Is it really you?"

I wonder if there is someone else that has gone through something similar. If there is someone else out there that woke up with words in their minds, words that weren’t theirs.

Damian Wayne woke up with words on his tongue which certainly weren’t his.   
Try not to forget me this time.   
Forget? What, or who, would he forget?   
He prided himself over his excellent memory, and he was sure that he didn’t forget whatever his mind was telling him. So, he pushed the thought to the side and went on with his usual day. 

He went downstairs for the breakfast Alfred had prepared and ate alone as he went through the newspaper. For some strange reason, he had a craving for orange juice. Once he finished, he went back to his room and into the bathroom. He took a long, hot shower and washed his teeth. The impact of water against his skin felt weird. As if it wasn’t the right temperature. To finish off, he put on his normal atterwere in front of his full size mirror. 

But instead of seeing his reflectioin as he normally would, he saw a girl standing right by his side. A blue hared girl, with blue bell eyes and the most adorable freckles all over her face and arms. The girl had a blank stare, as if she could look way past the mirror. She looked gloomy.   
A ghost?, was his first thought. But she spoke before he could get his weapons or call Alfred to get the nearest excorsist to the Manor. 

“Check yesterday’s diary”, she said in a distant voice.   
“Who are you?”  
“I’ll tell you if you check your diary”

As if he would trust a ghost. Before doing anything she ordered, he lunged forward at her, to tackle her to the ground. But instead, only him fell down with a painful thud.

“For kwami’s sake, Damian, just go and check your diary. I can’t hurt you if that’s what you are worried about”

She knew his name. That, and the reassurance she couldn’t touch him, convinced him to go to his night stand and check the little notebook he kept as a diary. The notebook was left open at the pages for yesterday’s date, and it seemed to be a long entry. That was odd. He usually just wrote what was necessary. Instead, the many pages he had written over seemed to be out of a school text book.   
So, he started reading.   
5 minutes later, he looked towards Mari, who was reflected throughout all the shiny surfaces in his bedroom. 

“I can’t remember”, he said more to himself than her. He was confused to say the least. All he had written made sense, and yesterday’s him had also even added a special, yet embarrasing note, to make sure future him trusted the diary.   
Yesterday’s him was smart, and today’s him was already processing everything. 

“I know you can’t, you explained it in the diary”  
“Yeah”, Damian stroked the paper, everything making more and more sense as the time passed. “What happened when I went to sleep?”  
“We met in a lighthouse by the beach. We spoke and you drank an orange juice I had prepared for myself. Nothing important happened to be honest”  
“Oh”

So that was why he craved orange juice. 

Mari moved places and sat next to him on the bed. She put her feet up on the bed, which would have made him scream in terror, but he figured there would be no harm done since she wasn’t physically there. She smiled at him, which made her cheeks go all squishy.   
Squishy. Yeah, that made sense. 

“So, I can eat in that place?”  
“You certainly did”, she rolled her eyes at him. It was cute. “And if Alfred is as puntual as ever, he is going to knock on the door telling you it will be time to go in a few seconds”

Just as Mari said, Alfred knocked on the door. Damian smiled and before Alfred could speak through the door, he was already out with his backpack, ready to go to school.   
It was time to interrogate his dimension’s version of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

///////////

“My name’s Marinette, although almost everyone calls me Nettie”, the girl in front of him smiled while twirling a strand of her over and over with her finger. 

This wasn’t his idea of an interrogation. Maybe it was the Batman inside of him, but he had wanted to take her while wearing the Robin costume, interrogate her to find the facts, and then let her go. 

Instead, Marinette (his Marinette) insisted that he should try a more “civilian” approach. Which apparently involved chatting up with the girl in front of him who was clearly trying to flirt. 

It didn’t make him happy to see Mari’s face like that. It felt as if it was in the wrong body, he knew Mari would never make any of the gestures Nettie seemed to do without thinking. He was repelled by the sight of the imitation, but Mari looked more interested. 

“Ask her about Paris”, she said, her big blue eyes made even bigger by the way they studied her replica.   
He wanted to do everything but ask Nettie something else. He wished he could be asking Mari about Paris instead. 

“How’s living in Paris?”, he asked reluctantly. Damian knew that if he didn’t obey Mari, she wouldn’t let him off the hook.   
“Oh, it’s just wonderful!”

Nettie had a different accent to Mari’s. It didn’t sound french at all, but british.   
“You would love it, Damian. It’s so peaceful and warm. The food is delicious, of course. I was always jealous of bakers for creating such wonderful masterpieces”  
“Both Damian and Mari raised an eyebrow.   
“You don’t bake?”  
“Gosh, no! I never have the time. As it is, I am almost never in France because of my tours”

And that made two times Mari and Damian raised an eyebrow at the same time.   
“Tours?”  
“Well, yes. As you probably already know, just last month I finished a tour all throughout Asia. I have many fans around the world and I like being able to give each of them an experience they’ll love”  
“Of course”, he said through his teeth. 

Nettie reached out, putting her hand on top of his.   
“You know, I could always give you a bacstage pass to one of my concerts in Gotham”  
That was it. Damian didn’t know if he wanted to wash his hand 30 times or puke. No, he wanted both. He just couldn’t decide which to do first.   
He took his hand back, trying not to show his disgust on his face.   
“Yeah, I guess”

Damian stood up from his seat, ready to go interrogate someone else from the french school. Nettie had disappointment written clearly on her eyes. She was pouting.   
“Are you leaving already?”, she asked with a fake childish tone.   
“I need to take care of something else”  
He left before giving her a chance to say another word. 

Damian walked towards the bathroom in a hurry. As he passed next to the lockers, Mari looked as if she clearly wanted to tell him something, but for that she had to wait until they had a reflection source more stable than a locker.   
He opened the door to the bathroom and almost inmediately, she started talking non stop about how could Nettie not bake, after all, it was an ability necessary to survival. At least according to her.   
Damian chuckled.   
“I don’t know how many people I can kill with a baguette, but whatever you say”

Mari was clearly offended, and was about to debate with him about the pros and cons of using a baguette as a weapon instead of a sword, when someone else interrupted them.   
“Man, maybe you can’t kill someone with a baguette, but I would sure as hell kill someone for a good baguette in this city”  
Adrien Agreste chuckled as he washed his hands. Obviously, the blond wasn’t worried about who exactly Damian had been speaking to. 

“You should interrogate him while he’s here”  
As much as he would prefer to spend time alone with Mari, he knew she was right. Adrien was almost never alone, so having a private chat with him was impossible. He needed to grab the opportunity clearly given to him by destiny. 

“I think we prefer hamburguers to baguettes”, he tried to joke. Mari was not as impressed as Adrian, who started laughing.   
“Yeah, you are right”  
“So, other than good views and good baguettes, what else does Paris has in favor?”  
Adrien shrugged.   
“Honestly? Not much. Believe me, I would take a day in Gotham over another day in Paris anytime”  
Maybe Damian hadn’t been to Paris that much, but from what Mari and Nettie had told him, that wasn’t the opinion someone should have of their own home, specially if that home was Paris.   
“What, not a fan of the city of love?”  
“City of love? Nah man, more like city of terror. I’m sorry to ruin the date you were planning with Nettie in Paris, but believe me when I tell you that you are safer in a locked cage with the Joker than in Paris”

First of all, gross. He would never take a girl to Paris for a date, much less if that girl wasn’t Mari.   
Secondly, city of terror? Worse than being with the Joker?   
That wasn’t right. Mari had told him about how there were problems in Paris in her reality, but nothing that couldn’t be solved with the Miraculous. And Nettie had said it was a peaceful city. Something wasn’t clicking. 

“You are exagerating, that can’t be right”, he tried chuckling to lift off the heaviness that had suddenly invaded the bathroom.   
“No, believe me. As long as Pieris is in Paris, I would rather kiss Joker’s ass”, Adrian frowned, clearly annoyed at Damian for not taking him seriously. He left the bathroom. 

Marinette was very quiet for a long time, her head parallel to the floor. It seemed that her reality was much more different to Damian’s than what they had imagined.   
Finally she raised her head with the most serious frown Damian had ever seen in her face.   
“Who the fuck is Pieris?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song I was listening to while writing: Boy in the Bubble, by Alec Benjamin.


	5. Chapter 5

Have you ever wondered who would you be if it wasn’t for certain decisions?

Maybe if you hadn’t gave your number to that guy, you wouldn’t be in that relationship. Maybe if you hadn’t cut of that long friendship, you wouldn’t feel as guilty as you do. Maybe it’s something that doesn’t have to do with people at all. When you changed schools, you changed your future. And when you chose a career, only to decide it wasn’t your thing after one semester, you changed the future.

If you have ever moved cities or countries you’ll understand this feeling exactly. Because after some years of moving, you find an old friend’s instagram, someone who you dind’t even remember. And as you scroll down through their pictures, you realize, maybe you would have been in one of those. Maybe you would be best friends or enemies to death. Maybe if you had stayed in that city, you wouldn’t have hcanged as you did.

I really love the Butterfly Effect. The idea that since a butterfly batted its wings in a certain place, it will cause rain in another. It really shows how much every single little detail counts to the entirety of life, even if you don’t notice it at all.

And what better way to notice it but looking at the mirror?

Marinette could see it perfectly from where she was standing.

Since this world’s version of herself never stayed in Paris other than on vacations or tours, Nettie could have never become Ladybug. And without any Ladybug, there was no way Hawkmoth, or whoever Pieris was, could be defeated.

Of course, Mari wasn’t as self-conscious to think that only she could be Ladybug. Mr. Bug had already worked as her, which proved that there was no real necessity for Ladybug to be Marinette. But if in her reality she was Ladybug, then who was the one supposed to take her place in this distant world?

And who was Pieris? Because of the change of name, Marinette assumed it wasn’t the same person behind the mask in both realities. And since it wasn’t the same person, their objectives must be different too. She didn’t know Hawkmoth’s objective other than taking the cat and ladybug miraculous to perform his wish.

But what she did know, and what she had noticed, is that Hawkmoth would stop at nothing for getting them. He wasn’t a nice guy, someone who had the right intentions but took the wrong actions. Anyone who deliberately decided to abuse innocent people’s emotions, _children’s_ emotion, for their own gain was the scum of the earth.

And yet, he was still defeated. Over and over again. Not even Parisians themselves allowed him to have that much control over the city, even when Ladybug or Chat Noir didn’t appear. What had gone so wrong in this reality in order for Paris to be known that way?

Something was very, very wrong.

The bathroom was empty and for the last seven minutes no one had gone in. Probably because the classes had started once again five minutes ago. But Damian had made no effort in going back to class, instead, he patiently waited for Marinette to say something.

What could she say?

_Hey, I know that what that guy just told you is extremely different to the reality I know, even much more than what I expected, so I don’t know how I can help you help me. I don’t know how from that group we can get the information to get me back home._

_I don’t know._

Marinette had hoped that just as in her reality, she had gotten the miraculous. Or if it hadn’t been her, then someone else from the class. And once she knew who had the miraculous, she could find a way to talk to Tikki and Plagg. They had to know how to help her, they were gods after all. But now, with more doubts than the ones she started with, she had no idea what to do.

Mari didn’t know how to get back home and there was no one she could ask for help.

She felt like crying. Could souls cry? She knew she had no physical form at the moment, would that take away crying from her too?

“Let’s go”, Damien said, extending his hand towards her.

Towards her, not the mirror, Mari noticed.

It probably wasn’t because he saw her, at least not the real her. He must have taken some idea by the way she was reflected on the mirror and taken that information to know her position. But real or not, it didn’t matter. He was at least trying to look at her. And that was all she could ask for at the moment.

“Go where?”

“To Paris”

Marinette laughed. Why would they go there? There was nothing for them in that place. At least not for Mari.

“Why? I don’t know that place”, she said through her laugh, which was beginning to sound more like a cry.

“To know it”

Damian, oh always so stubborn Damian. Couldn’t he tell that the last thing she wanted was to go to that place? Seeing herself and her friends was too much of a shock. What if she saw her fathers? What if she didn’t? They probably didn’t even live there. Adrian had different parents in this reality, what if she also had different ones? Her parents could be strangers to Nettie.

And Master Fu? Would he be the Guardian? If there was no one to stop Pieris, she really doubted that Master Fu had ever been a Guardian at all. And without the power of the miraculous by his side, that would make him dead, or just another grandparent of a sweet kid.

She couldn’t go to Paris. Not when only thinking about the possibilities hurt her so much.

“I know”, Damien interrupted her thoughts. “I know it doesn’t feel right. I know that seeing them like this isn’t right. But if Pieris is like Hawkmoth, then he must have a miraculous. And if we can take that miraculous, or find another one on the way, then we can find answers”

 _He’s right_ , she could imagine Tikki saying to her ear.

Yes, he is. He is always right. But for once, Mari didn’t want to do the right thing. She wanted to take break from being a hero, from being her own hero.

Paris could wait. Her own Paris could wait some days. As long as the class stayed in the Gotham, there was no reason why they should move places.

“We should first learn more about Pieris”, she said with a little smile, as much of a smile as she could force herself to make. From the look in Damian’s eyes, she could tell he didn’t believe it all. But he smiled back, a little forced smile, probably to also make her feel better.

If the both of you know you are faking, does it really help at all?

“Yes. We can talk with Nino, if Adrien hasn’t convinced him yet to stay away from me”

“At this point, only Nettie will want to talk to you”, she chuckled.

She tried grabbind his hand, but as always, she failed. Still, the gesture was enough to bring back a nice atmosphere into the bathroom.

“Oh, please no”, Damian moaned. “Everything but her. Honestly, what happened that she ended up much different to you?”

“For starters, she can sing”

“You can sing too”

“Damian, you don’t have memories at the moment, so don’t lie. You and I both know that I sing like a dying parrot”

“I’ll take a dying parrot any day over Nettie”, he shrugged.

“Hey!”

Damien walked out the bathroom, with Mari following close behind. The halls were empty, which gave them freedom to continue talking to each other even if Damien couldn’t keep looking at Mari.

“So, let’s get back to the classroom and see our next victim to stalk”

“Damien, they’re help, not victims”

“Legally, Nettie will be considered a victim if she doesn’t stop touching me”

They started laughing. For anyone looking through the cameras, it would look as if the Wayne child had officially gone crazy. But Mari and Damian lived in their own little bubble where cameras didn’t exist.

Damian started walking back towards his class, but Mari was against it.

“We should take a break for today. What we’ve found is enough for the moment, don’t you think?”

What she meant to say was that she really was in need for a break. And if she continued asking around questions she didn’t want to hear the answers of, she probably wouldn’t be able to put herself back together.

“Alright”, Damian said. “No more classes for today?”

“No more classes”, Mari smiled.

Damian put a hand over his forehead and closed his eyes, with a very exagerated frown on his face.

“What am I going to do? My soulmate is forcing me to fail high school!”

“Oh, no, Damian”, Mari said with a malicious grin. “I am going to force you through something more horrible than that”

Damian gulped back his fear.

/////

A call to Alfred, a trip in a car and thirty minutes later, they were back in the Wayne Manor. They had at first expected to find at least one of Damian’s brothers, but the manor was empty. Apparently, Tim had been sleeping the last few days in his office back in the company because, in his own words, “I already spend my whole day here and the only reason I am supposed to get back is for sleep. I don’t sleep”.

On the other hand, Dick was on the other side of the country visiting his girlfriend. Or more like he went back to his home, Damian supposed. He went to the manor often because he couldn’t stand keeping away from “his family”, but it wasn’t where he officially lived anymore. Damian had asked Mari about what Dick’s soulmate felt when they watched him be so in love with Kori. Mari thought a bit before answering.

“I guess that most people decide to settle, subconciusly at least. If there’s no way that you’ll be able to meet your soulmate, then why should you keep yourself from other people? And from what I understand, soulmates aren’t always a romantic thing. Sometimes it’s a fraternal link between two people. In french, we call soulmates soul sisters. So, maybe his soulmate doesn’t love him romantically”

Damian accepted her answer.

The last missing brother was Jason, who had been missing for some days now. Alfred had told Damian that Todd was working on some under the rug business, which meant he was working on some criminal business which he didn’t want Bruce finding out. Bruce always found out, but the effort was valid.

So, the two of them had the house all for themselves. Well, themselves and Alfred. But Alfred had to work on some stuff Bruce had asked him, so they were mostly by themselves.

Taking the opportunity, Mari had forced Damian to prepare some popcorn to himself, even if he didn’t like it.

“It’s not that you don’t like it”, she had said while he prepared the food. “It’s that you have never had it in the right scenario”

She also insisted on Damian doing it for himself. Which ended up on a bag of burnt popcorn and Damian asking once more for Alfred’s help. Alfred raised an eyebrow when he heard his young master’s petition, but he decided to do it anyways. Damian had never asked for popcorn before that day.

Once the popcorn was ready, Mari told him to go to the cinema room of the manor. Damian didn’t understand, but he did as he was told. Along the way, he picked some blankets because, once again, of Mari’s request. And two or three mirrors to be able to see her, of course.

Once they were ready in the cinema room, she told him to put a movie. A movie of her choice.

“The Lion King?”, he asked. “Isn’t that a children’s movie?”

“Does it matter? I want to watch it, and under the law, we are still considered children in this country”

Damian pressed play without fighting.

Mari kept smiling, already knowing how much Damian was going to bother her once he went to sleep. She didn’t care, it was a cultural classic which he needed to see.

Halfway through the movie, Damian paused it.

“I don’t understand what’s the problem. Simba is living his best life while Scar is finally stepping out of his brother’s shadow. Both are happy”

“But the others aren’t”

“Timon and Pumba seem happy enough for me. Didn’t you hear them singing? They are the equivalent of two college boys having a sabatic year which just happens to last their whole life”

To make his point across, he returned the movie to the part of the Hakuna Matata song. Mari knew he only put it again so that he could listen to it. Damian was really falling in love with the movie, even if his way of demonstrating it was by questioning everything about the movie itself.

“But it’s not about that. It’s about how the rest of the animals are suffering under Scar’s rule”

“The hienas are happy”

“Are they happy Damian? Are they really happy?”

“Well, it’s not as if I can call Disney and ask _hey are your hienas happy, my soulmate and I are having a debate about the purpose of your movie_!”

“It’s not about Disney, it’s about you seeking the answer in your heart!”

“My heart says the hienas in the Lion King are happy, case closed”

Content with himself, Damian crossed his arms on top of his chest.

“The hienas aren’t realistically happy since they are working for a dictator in the making, which means that at least a few of them can see that over the years they will slowly loose their only source of food thanks to Scar. Come on Damian, even at the end the movie clearly shows that that’s why the hienas turned on Scar”  
Mari hadn’t said that.

Behind them, stood Bruce Wayne on all his glory. From what Mari remembered seeing of him when she was asleep, he hadn’t changed at all. He wore a suit, as he always did, and his hair was sleekily combed back. He really did look like a celebrity.

A celebrity who had just found his son speaking to himself about the point of The Lion King. Alone, in the cinema room, with a bowl of untouched perfectly cooked popcorn, two blankets and three mirrors surrounding him.

“Uhm, hey Bruce?”, Damian barely got the sound out of his mouth. The day really wasn’t going as planned.

“Hey, son”

Bruce sat down besides Damian, right over where Mari was supposed to be sitting. She moved away before he actually sat, saving herself from a weird view.

Bruce Wayne crossed one leg over the other and turned his head to look better at Damian, or more like look him directly into the eyes.

“Now, will you explain to me why Alfred has said that for the past days you have spoke to yourself and why the school seems to be worried about you being schizophrenic?”

Well, shit.

That wasn’t a father-son talk like the one of The Lion King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song I was listening to while writing: Please Be My Strength, by Gungor.


	6. Chapter 6

Oh, fathers.

Either you love them or you hate them.

Maybe you had the father that helped you with math homework at 2 am in the morning. Or maybe your father preferred the route of perfect grades, or else… Some fathers have the kindest hugs, while others have the hardest hands. Some fathers give loving words while others spit knives with their tongues.

No matter what, if you had a good dad, a bad dad, a more or less dad, we’ve all got daddy issues. And if you deny it, it’s because you just haven’t had the chance to find them.

It really is weird how someone that is supposed to care for us can hurt us in so many possible ways. Sometimes, even if they don’t realize it, they create wounds on us that never heal.

Imagine the wounds that a emotional depravated father, that was traumatized by the murder of his own parents and is constantly facing death, can give to his multiple sons. Imagine the enormous amount of daddy issues under one same ceiling.

Damian constantly asked himself how the Wayne Manor hadn’t been destroyed already. Except, that it already has. If not physically, then emotionally. Dick left, according to himself at least; Jason died, came back, tried to kill Bruce, failed at it, left, came back, and left once more; Tim is the Wikipedia definition of what happens when you mix self-hatres and impostor syndrome together; and Damian…

Well, they don’t call him Demon Spawn for nothing.

Damian didn’t hate his father. At least not after all those years of getting to know him. Yes, there were some things about Bruce that he was deeply against, and sometimes he wondered if Bruce should really raise all those kids on his own. Thankfully, there was an Alfred to fix Bruce’s mistakes. But even with Alfred’s help, sometimes there are people that just weren’t meant to raise children.

All the effort he put, all the time he spent with them. It was all appreciated, really. The sad thing is that it’s really hard to remember someone loves you when they aren’t saying it, nor verbally or physically. And it is even harder to love that person back when their idea of love is dressing you up in the worst colored costume ever and throwing you in the face of criminals.

Sometimes Bruce really cared. He always cared, but sometimes he didn’t know what to do with all those feelings. So, when he finally managed to keep up with his therapist for more than a week, then Bruce acted as the closest thing to a father that the boys would ever have.

This was one of those times.

“So, is there something you want to tell me?”

He wasn’t angry, that was as much as Damian could tell from his expression and his voice. Neither was he worried, if he was worried then it would clearly be mixed up with angry Bruce. So, no. He didn’t seem like that at the moment.

“Is no a possible answer?”

It was weird, especially taking into account that Bruce was the Batman, but for Damian, the scariest moments with his father were when he truly cared. When Damian couldn’t say tell the way Bruce felt, when not even Alfred was needed. It was scary, because for once Damian didn’t know how to act.

Angry Bruce was easy. All he had to do was respond in the same way, and act even agrier. Throw some threats here and there and that was it. Sad Bruce was not a problem, Damian just needed to leave him alone for a day or two.

When Bruce had one of his existential crisis, Dick was the solution. They always understood each other the best. Sometimes they would go on roadtrips, to who knows where. They would disappear for days, and Bruce came back as a new man.

If Bruce, or Batman, decided that there was no case in fighting crime anymore, Jason was the one needed. Even if their views on justice were different, they always agreed that fighting for it was better than ignoring it. So, they would fight. There was no use for words between those two. The only way to comprehend each other was through punches, and Jason would always manage to knock some sense into him.

And, sometimes, Bruce went into manic mode. It was when he was so close to catching someone, accomplishing a long time goal. When they couldn’t separate him from the computer or the suit. Then, Tim would come in with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. He would sit down and listen to Bruce, until Bruce finally got tired. He was the only one able to stay with him for that long without trying to force some sense into him. Tim never asked him to stop, he would just make Bruce use all of the energy he had left.

Yes, Damian knew the answer to every single mood of Bruce. He knew all the ways to get him back to normal, except one. When Damian couldn’t tell what Bruce felt, when no one could. That was when it got scary. Because Damian feared he would be the answer to the problem, and he didn’t want anyone to depend that much on him. After all, he was called Demon Spawn for a reason.

“I don’t think so Damian”, said Bruce with a small smile on his lips.

Behind Bruce, Mari stood holding up two thumbs for Damian. She acted nervous, avoiding Damian’s eyes. Damian only wanted to continue the movie.

“Ok”, he gulped.

“Ok”, Bruce said back, clearly waiting for an answer.

But what answer should Damian give him?

_Yes, Dad, the reason I’ve been talking to myself for days and hoarding mirrors is because I met my soulmate, who is in another dimension, and the only way to see her is through mirrors. Oh, you also have a soulmate, but you probably won’t ever get to meet them._

_Why can I talk to mine? Because in her reality she got hurt, and now is in a coma so I am trying to find a way to wake her up and the only way to do so is by forcefully sending her back to her dimension. And, finally, we decided to take a break today and watch the Lion King, which surprisingly doesn’t have any differences between both realities._

Something told him that wasn’t the right thing to say.

“It’s a long story”, he managed to say. And he wasn’t lying. It _was_ a long story, and Bruce never had time for long stories.

“It’s still barely four in the afternoon, I think we have more than enough time”

Well, shit. Since when did time go so slowly?

Damian raised his eyes to Marinette. She took some seconds thinking.

“You should tell him”, she finally concluded.

“Are you out of your mind?”, Damian instinctively replied.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, clearly beleiving he was the one being spoken to.

“Well, if we are talking literally, I am”, Mari continued.

“Excuse me?”, Bruce said oblivious to the whole other conversation taking place at the same time.

“Not you”, Damian said while pointing with his index finger to Bruce. He turned back to Marinette. “You do realize who we are talking about? God, if anyone knows him like I do is you. Why would you even think about telling him?”

“Not me?”

“Well, isn’t he the greatest detective or something? Maybe he can help us find an answer”, Mari shrugged. “Anyways, he’s already seeing you talking to me. So, either you say the truth or you are crazy”

“Damian? Are you feeling alright?”, Bruce seemed as if he wanted to put a hand on top of Damian’s shoulder, but he changed his mind.

“You see? He’s already worried”

Damian groaned as he took a hand to the back of his head. This day would surely create the biggest headache. Fortunately, he wouldn’t remember anything by tomorrow.

“Could you please stop talking at the same time?”

“Me?”, asked Bruce.

“You are going to give him a heart attack! I can practically hear his brain going over all the possible mental health problems you could have!”

“Yes, you! Both of you! And do you really think he would worry about mental health? That’s his whole thing! You don’t become a personality in Gotham unless you are incredibly depressed and have PTSD!”

“That’s enough!”

Bruce stood up from the seat with the infamous batman pose. Really, all he was missing was the cape.

Marinette seemed to be abouth to say something, but the sudden outburst scared her enough to go hide behind one of the seats.

“I have no idea what’s happening here and you will explain it to me right now!”

Damian simply nodded.

“And you will tell whatever you are talking to that they also need to keep silence”

Marinette nodded.

“They’re a person and they’re a she, if you really want to know”, Damian huffed.

“Well, then miss, I’ll ask you to not interrupt while I try to have a conversation with my son”

“Of course!”, answered Marinette as if Bruce could hear her.

“She doesn’t like it when you call her miss”, Damian snickered.

“Damian!”, cried Mari.

Bruce didn’t say anything back. He sat back down while fixing his suit.

“Now, if you will?”

It seemed as if there really was no way out of this one. He would have to tell Bruce everything, because he was sure that no lie could be more unbeliavable than the truth. He would give Bruce what he wanted, and in turn get him mad for playing with him. And, as we all know, Damian could deal perfectly with an angry Bruce.

At least that was the plan.

“If you really didn’t want to tell him, we could always drug him so that he thinks he imagined everything”

And now, thanks to Mari, there was a plan B.

Damian nodded.

“I know you won’t believe me, but here’s what’s happening”.

/////////

As expected, Bruce didn’t believe him at first. The best bullshitting is the one where you tell the truth to the point that it seems entirely fake.

Bruce interrupted him multiple times, asking him to stop lying. Damian repsonded by threatening with not continuing saying anything.

At the end of the story, Bruce said there were some things he needed to think about. He asked Damian to return all the mirrors to their places because Alfred was going to murder someone if one more mirror disappeared. He stood up, brushed his suit, left the cinema room and locked himself in his office for who knows how long. Damian considered calling Dick, but then he would also have to explain all the story to Dick who would take it even worse than Bruce.

So, he decided to obey Bruce’s orders, for the sake of Alfred, and locked himself in his room. He wondered what could be crossing Bruce’s mind at the moment.

“Do you think he thinks I went crazy?”

Mari sighed, reflected on the only mirror of his room. It was weird not seeing her all around him.

“I don’t know, Damian”, she mused. “And I think that there’s far too much thinking going on at the moment”

Damian couldn’t agree more. But at the time, it was all his brain could do. He throwed himself to his bed and closed his eyes, imagining all the possible scenarios.

“Worst case scenario, we can always drug him”, Mari suggested.

“Yes, stepping down to my father’s standards. That’s a really good idea”, he chuckled.

Marinette stayed quiet, and since he had his eyes closed, there was no way of telling she was even there in the first place.

Like that, in the darkness and silence, even Damian had to wonder wether he had really lost his mind. Maybe Mari didn’t exist and he was the one in the coma. Maybe he was already dead and this was the way his brain dealt with the trauma.

He wished it wasn’t like that.

Damian had already gone over accepting whatever was happening to him and Mari in the morning, and it had taken some time to get used to it. He really hated how each morning he forgot everything about Mari and the other reality. It was really bothersome to have all that information and then, just like that, lose it.

“Hey, Mari?”

“Yes?”

“If whatever joins our realities, also make us lose our memories, then it makes us forget everything that is related to the realities, right?”

“I guess”

“So, it isn’t necessary to be in the same situation as us, right?”

Damian opened his eyes and sat up on his bed. Mari was sitting down besides him.

“No, but why is that important?”

“Because”, Damian started. “Then it doesn’t matter from where you got the knowledge. What matters is that you have it, so let’s call it the phenomenon, will erase your memories as long as you have the information”

Marinette’s eyes opened wide, realizing what Damian was pointing out.

“So, if some human from my reality that for some reason just knows about the realities, if he told someone else about it, then the next morning _both_ of them wouldn’t rememebr shit”

“As long as the one being told doesn’t have a way of remembering, then Bruce wouldn’t remember anything”, Mari completed.

Damian ran over to his night table and took his diary. He had left it open right in the morning, which meant that anyone who had gone into his room could have read it. He would really need to be more careful with where he placed the little notebook from here on after.

For once, Damian had a solution to Bruce’s problems. All he had to do was wait until the day was over, let him sleep, and on the next day it would all be over. The only thing he needed to worry about was keeping the diary as far away from Bruce as possible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song I was listening to while writing: Daddy Issues, by The Neighbourhood

**Author's Note:**

> A song I was listening to while writing: Duelo Dulce, by Babi


End file.
